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Morning sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, painting gold streaks across the tidy rows of desks. The air was still, almost sacred in its quiet — a rare pocket of peace before the day exploded into chaos. Ha Joon stepped inside, slipping off his hoodie and smoothing out his uniform jacket, grateful to have the school to himself for a little while.
Then he heard it.
Soft strumming, deliberate and searching. Notes that didn't yet form a song, but still carried emotion like a whisper. It wasn't coming from the hallway or a phone. No — it was real, live, and coming from the back of the classroom.
There, perched on top of a desk like it was the most natural thing in the world, was Luka Couffaine. His long blue hair glinted like ink in the morning light, and his fingers moved with practiced ease over the strings of a well-worn guitar. His expression was focused, but not intense — like he was chasing something only he could hear.
Ha Joon stood frozen for a second. He hadn't expected anyone to be here, much less Luka. This early. Alone. Playing music.
His stomach fluttered with nerves.
Talk to him, a voice in his head whispered. You came here early for a reason, right?
With a breath to steady himself, Ha Joon walked over slowly. "You're here early," he said, keeping his tone light, casual.
Luka glanced up. His eyes were a mix of deep green and stormy gray — calm, like the sea before a tide shift. "Yeah. Mornings are the best time to play. The school's quiet."
Ha Joon nodded, slipping into the seat next to him. "You play really well. I mean it. That didn't sound like someone just messing around."
Luka's lips curled into a faint smile. "Thanks. I was working on a new melody. It's not finished yet."
"I get that," Ha Joon said, resting his chin on one hand. "I write lyrics sometimes, and I swear they always sound better in my head than when I say them out loud."
That got a soft chuckle out of Luka — small, but sincere.
"You write?" Luka asked, setting his guitar gently across his lap. "Do you sing too?"
"Yeah," Ha Joon admitted, a bit sheepish. "Music's always been my escape. Before I came to Paris, I was a K-pop idol. The real-deal stage lights, screaming fans, rehearsals till dawn. It was everything. Stressful, yeah, but when I was on that stage... it felt like I was invincible."
Luka's eyes lit with interest. "You were an idol?"
Ha Joon smiled, remembering it. "Still am. Just taking a break from the spotlight right now. I used to be part of a group called VER5E. We were big back home. My solo debut was coming up when I left. Honestly, I still can't believe how different it feels to just sit and talk about music instead of always having to perform it."
"That's pretty amazing," Luka said. "Most people don't get to live their dream like that."
Ha Joon shrugged, but his expression softened. "It had its downsides. Fame doesn't fix loneliness. But it gave me music, and I guess that's enough."
Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, the room felt warmer. Like they were the only two people in it. Ha Joon's chest tightened, but he didn't look away.
"What kind of music do you like?" Luka asked, shifting slightly, genuinely interested.
"Everything," Ha Joon said with a grin. "K-pop, rock, indie, jazz, lo-fi — if it hits, it hits. Lately I've been obsessed with live acoustic stuff though. The kind where you can hear the artist's breath between notes."
Luka smiled again, wider this time. "Then you'd like my mom's band. We don't use synths or anything digital. Just real instruments. Real sound."
Ha Joon's eyes widened. "Your mom's in a band?"
"She's the lead singer. I play with them sometimes when they need an extra guitar."
"That's—!" Ha Joon almost bounced in his seat. "That's actually amazing. I thought my family was cool because my uncle once opened for a comedian."
They both laughed at that, the conversation flowing easier now. They kept talking until the sounds of footsteps and voices began spilling into the hallway. Students began trickling in, and Luka glanced toward the door.
"I should go tune this somewhere quieter," he said, standing and swinging his guitar back into its case.
"It was really nice talking to you," Ha Joon said, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear.
"You too," Luka replied. "See you around, Ha Joon."
As Luka turned away, Ha Joon let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, his heart pounding with an unfamiliar lightness. He made his way to his seat beside Chloe and Sabrina, cheeks flushed just as Chloe turned with an expectant smirk.
"You were gone for ten minutes and already you're glowing. Did he give you his guitar pick or something?"
Ha Joon rolled his eyes and buried his face in his textbook. "Mind your business, Bourgeois."
Sabrina just smiled knowingly.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur of lectures and ancient Egyptian history. Jalil, Alya's older brother, seemed oddly fixated on a pharaoh myth and got more agitated as the day progressed. Ha Joon didn't pay it too much attention — at least, not until chaos struck.
Screams echoed through the streets as the transformed Jalil, now The Pharaoh, hovered over the city wielding ancient magic. Ladybug and Chat Noir had arrived to battle him, and students were being rushed away from the danger zone.
But as Ha Joon and a few others ran for shelter, he noticed a small boy standing frozen near a cracked statue — eyes wide, unmoving. Everyone else had passed him. No one noticed.
"Go! I'll catch up!" Ha Joon shouted to Chloe and Sabrina, who were being pulled toward a safe building.
Without thinking, Ha Joon sprinted toward the kid.
"Hey! It's okay!" he said, kneeling and shielding the boy as another magical blast from The Pharaoh cracked the air.
The debris rained down too fast for him to dodge.
He saw a blur of light, felt a surge of heat — then everything tilted.
Strong arms wrapped around him. A heartbeat close to his ear.
He was lifted off the ground in one smooth motion, bridal-style. And when he looked up…
"Luka?!"
Luka's face was focused, one arm supporting Ha Joon, the other guiding the dazed kid toward safety with calm urgency.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
Ha Joon's heart thundered.
The wind swept past them, and Luka's scent hit him like a wave — salt and citrus, clean and sharp, like sea spray. Beneath that was something deeper, warmer — sandalwood, aged leather, and the faintest hint of rain-soaked wood. It smelled like stage lights and cool nights. Like music and calm.
Too flustered to respond, Ha Joon buried his face in Luka's chest. The cotton of his shirt was warm, his heartbeat steady like a drum keeping rhythm.
"I've got you," Luka said gently.
They reached a protected archway where Chloe and Sabrina were waiting. The kid scurried to safety.
"Well, that was dramatic," Chloe said, eyebrow raised.
Ha Joon still hadn't looked up.
"Honestly?" Sabrina said, softly grinning. "It was kind of romantic."
Luka gently lowered Ha Joon to the ground.
"You okay now?"
"Y-Yeah," Ha Joon mumbled, avoiding his eyes, cheeks burning. "Thanks… for that."
"No problem." Luka's smile was warm, like sunlight catching water.
Ha Joon bit the inside of his cheek to keep from swooning.
Ladybug and Chat Noir's battle wrapped up with a final flashy flourish. The Pharaoh was de-evilized, peace returned, and students were allowed to go home. But Ha Joon barely remembered any of it.
Back at the penthouse, the moment he stepped through the door, he dropped his bag and beelined for his room.
He face-planted onto the bed and screamed into his pillow.
"I CAN'T—!"
"SHUT UP!" Kyle yelled from his room.
Ha Joon giggled into the fabric, then rolled onto his back, hand over his chest.
He replayed it again — Luka's arms, the scent of his shirt, that soft smile. Every time his heart sped up, he groaned into the covers.
"I'm so done. I'm so done."
But he wasn't complaining.
As sleep began to creep in, Ha Joon's last conscious thought was of Luka's voice saying I've got you — soft, sure, safe.
He smiled, still blushing, and drifted off.
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